


Just A Resident Advisor Advising Residents...

by cheeky_geek_m0nkey



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:58:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5557016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheeky_geek_m0nkey/pseuds/cheeky_geek_m0nkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Chloe's an RA, and Beca's that one resident who doesn't want to go to mandatory hall meetings. <br/>(A series of prompts....limited story line).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“You should check in on her.” 

It was a simple enough phrase, and one that Chloe had learned to memorize over the course of her time as an RA.

It was the phrase that made Chloe perfect for her job. It was, also, the phrase that made Chloe hate her job most weeks. 

Because what did a quiet, possibly troubled resident almost _never_ want to do? 

Talk to their trusty RA about whatever was plaguing them. 

And what did Chloe have to try her best to get that possibly troubled resident to do? 

Talk to their trust RA about whatever was plaguing them. 

Chloe nodded at her boss, assuring him that, of course, she’d keep an eye on this Beca Mitchell (room 117, _right_ ), though she was pretty sure everything was fine. This script of assurance allowed her to get out of the one-on-one with ample time to walk to rehearsals, and as her heels clacked over the cracks in the sidewalk, she thought about every interaction she’d had with this resident thus far. 

Beca Mitchell, room 117, was from somewhere in the middle of Pennsylvania. At least, that’s what the form Chloe was given indicated. She wouldn’t actually know, though, because Beca missed the “mandatory” hall meeting that introduced everyone, and she never seemed to be around whenever Chloe tried to catch her to hand over the rules. 

She lived in the only single in the hall aside from Chloe, which meant that they were across from each other, and occasionally Chloe could hear music pounding from the walls, but whenever she knocked to try to enforce quiet hours, the only response she would get would be the promptly lowered volume. 

Chloe _thought_ that she had spotted Beca once, in the bathroom, considering there weren’t any other girls in the hall with ear spikes quite of that…nature…though Chloe wasn’t sure because the girl scurried out pretty quickly, no doubt hoping to avoid the typical bathroom conversation that RA’s had been expertly trained in. 

She had a good back. That was all Chloe remembered, really, aside from the fleeting thought of “Is that my resident?” Donning nothing but a gray towel, Chloe got a mental snapshot of the girl’s back, and it was nice. Which was a very strange thing to say - about a resident no less - but Chloe was literally _rifling_ through her brain to remember _anything_ about this girl, and all she could garner up was this: an ear spike and a great back. 

Splendid. 

She tried, again, to knock on Beca’s door when she made it back to the dorm that night. It had been a flawed tactic, one that had yet to work on this girl, but it was all Chloe had the energy for at the moment, and she was a girl who particularly enjoyed hoping against hope that lost causes could change. 

When there was no answer, then, Chloe was anything but shocked. She spent time that night decorating a note, complete with curly-q’s and heart-dotted ‘i’s, to tape onto Beca’s door, accompanied by a few pieces of candy. 

“Haven’t had the chance to meet,” it said, “But I know we’re going to be fast friends. Stop by sometime to say hi? I’ve tried to knock, but you’re so busy!” 

The next morning, though, the card was still hung up and the candy was taken, a clear message to Chloe to step the hell back. 

Which, of course, made her push even more. 

She could easily claim that this was the series of events that led her to such a state of desperation that she needed to forcibly open the shower curtains to introduce herself to her resident, but she assumed even Beca’s extreme avoidance techniques weren’t reason enough for an RA to barge into a resident’s shower. 

So, if asked (she never was asked, for the record), what drove her to opening those curtains the next night was a mixture of utter concern for her resident, dedication to her job, and a touch of spontaneous action based in thoughtlessness. 

“Dude!” 

“Beca Mitchell!” Chloe said excitedly, keeping the curtain open with her hand even when Beca tried to close it. “I’ve been trying to say hi for, like, _ages.”_

 _“_ I am _nude_ ,” Beca choked out. She was trying to cover herself with the other end of the curtain, though it did little to keep that “good back” safe from Chloe’s eyes. Sure, it took a total of two seconds for Chloe to realize _just_ how inappropriate this form of introduction was. This realization served as even more motivation for Chloe to make this interaction as normal as possible. 

“I see that,” Chloe said, and Beca scoffed. “You weren’t coming to the door, and I realized that you take showers at this time of ni–”

“That’s _so_ creepy! Get out!” 

“No,” Chloe said simply, crossing her arms. “Not until you introduce yourself to me and tell me one thing about yourself.” 

“You don’t think barging in on my shower is enough of an icebreaker?” Beca squealed. Chloe found herself smiling. Beca, the resident in 117, was cute. Moody and distant, and very clearly _despising_ of her RA, but adorable when flustered. 

She didn’t think this was something her boss would want to hear about. In fact, she was pretty certain her boss shouldn’t hear about any aspect of this introduction. 

She’d have to draft up a less…indulgent…version of the story before her next one-on-one. 

“That’s funny,” Chloe said, biting her lip. “You’re funny.” 

“And nude,” Beca reminded her. 

“That too,” Chloe nodded. “But those facts do not count as an icebreaker.” 

Beca looked at Chloe, her eyes zeroing in on the redhead’s, and Chloe thought that if this girl’s parents had to deal with that stare she wasn’t entirely sure how they must have survived through 18 years of parenting. 

“You can’t be serious,” Beca said. Chloe took a deep breath under Beca’s glare, looking up and starting to sigh. Beca stepped back, looking around before starting over. “Beca Mitchell,” she started, “Freshman. When I was five I ate a nickel and had to be taken to the ER.”

“Well, it is nice to _finally_ meet you, Beca Mitchell,” Chloe said victoriously. She held her hand out, which Beca took quickly and without thinking. Chloe assumed it was without thinking, that is, because the minute she did it, she removed any barrier between her naked body and Chloe’s eyes, a thing her face was reacting to with nothing short of humiliation and shock. 

Chloe bit her lip, knowing that she should look away, but taking entirely too long to tear her eyes from the sight. “I’m….” she said, pointed to the door, “I’m going to go now.” 

“Yeah,” Beca stage whispered, “I think that’s best.” 

“Oh, but Becs?” Chloe wasn’t someone to shy away from nicknames when she could. She noticed the slight wince that came with the name shortening, but she was familiar with it. It said “we are _so_ not there yet”. To which Chloe always responded with “That’s what you think”. 

“What,” Beca gritted her teeth, peeking her head out from the curtain. 

“Next time I knock, _please_ answer,” Chloe said, “I could get in a crap ton of trouble if our only conversations are while you’re naked.” 

“Right,” Beca muttered. The glare that was fixed on Chloe could kill a thousand men. Chloe, however, was impervious to it. In fact, it was almost cute how annoyed Beca was getting at her resiliency. “Noted.” 

“Awes,” Chloe chirped, throwing a wave over her shoulder. “Make good choices, Beca Mitchell!” 

One resident interaction down. 

It was good Chloe was getting paid for this job, because what she had ahead of her wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. At least, that’s how it seemed. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so i know you JUST posted the ficlet but like on the real can you do a continuation of RA!Chloe? like how she sees or interacts with beca again and how it all goes? or whatever you decide is the best way to continue it? (maybe even some staubrey if thats like possible if not then nbd) — sent by anonymous

It wasn’t Chloe in particular that Beca was apathetic towards. 

It was, in general, the entirety of the college experience. 

She _had_ to go to school for at least a semester before running off to her happily ever after in LA. She didn’t _have_ to enjoy it. Or even participate in it, really. 

No one had given her RA that information, though, because throughout the first weeks at school, she lost count of all the times she heard Chloe knocking at her door. Between pizza programs and hall meetings, the redhead would bribe her with candy, coffee, even notes, and while Beca admired the resiliency, she almost felt bad for the woman. She was fighting a losing battle, and although Beca wasn’t about to _tell_ Chloe to give up, watching her put in the effort made Beca feel all the more guilty for not responding. 

Then, she heard the Dixie Chicks streaming out from Chloe’s room, and any sense of guilt or possibility for compassion was dissolved once more. 

She didn’t want to be here. Chloe’s job was to make her want to be here. There was really no compromising with that one. 

Admittedly, she didn’t think this stalemate was going to result in Chloe barging in on her shower and demanding an icebreaker introduction. Had she known, she would’ve stopped by for a piece of pizza on the Wednesday night that Chloe offered it, or done something of equal lack of commitment that did _not_ involve her nudeness. 

Of course, the minute she felt Chloe’s eyes burning through the thin shower curtain, Beca couldn’t stop _seeing_ her. No, not in her mind, you perv, but around campus. There was a word for that phenomenon when you only start to notice the frequency of things after they’ve been pointed out to you, and Beca found herself searching for that word several times over the course of the following weeks. She _swore_ their schedules weren’t _that_ in sync, but, judging by the fact that Beca learned to memorize Chloe’s stride in front of her on the way to her history class, she guessed maybe she was just…unobservant, originally. 

“Beca,” Chloe said, racing to catch up to Beca on her way back from the gym (Beca didn’t _like_ that she knew Chloe was at the gym. She didn’t _like_ that she knew that every Tuesday at one, Chloe went for a run. These weren’t facts that she was actively seeking out. They were just facts that were thrown at her. Small campus meant small chances at _not_ knowing.) “Hey.” 

She weaved her arm in Beca’s, folding her hands on the crook of Beca’s elbow. They were gloved, despite the fact that aside from a winter coat, Chloe was wearing short shorts, socks, and tennis shoes. She was out of breath and pink-cheeked, her hair thrown up into a haphazard bun in need of a good shower. 

Shower. Her shower. Chloe in her shower. 

And, she was back in that place again. 

Wincing slightly, she shrugged. “Howdy,” she said quietly, picking at the back of her earring. 

“I have a question for you,” Chloe said. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but since the whole ‘forward’ thing works for you…” 

“You _barged in_ on my _shower,”_ Beca said incredulously, but Chloe just laughed. Briefly, Beca wondered if this woman was never taught proper social cues, because the clear signs Beca gave were shot down with smiles that edged on impossibly oblivious. 

“Only because you wouldn’t open your door when I knocked,” Chloe argued, biting her lip. “I have unorthodox tactics, but they obviously worked.”

“Because I was _nude,_ and you wouldn’t leave until I said something,” Beca fought. Chloe hummed thoughtfully, brushing over the topic quickly, but not without a single, brief moment of haziness that made Beca acutely self-conscious of how close they were while walking. “Whatever, what do you have to ask?” 

“Okay, so,” Chloe started, “Are you like….” She stopped then, taking a breath and squaring her shoulders, offering a quick grin to break up the anxiety that was rising rapidly over Beca’s face. “How are you adjusting here?” 

She wasn’t sure what, exactly, the redhead was going to ask, but okay, Beca did _not_ think that was going to be the question that came out of Chloe’s mouth. 

She had to remind herself, then, that Chloe was an RA. Her RA. It was ridiculous to expect any question _other_ than that. 

“Aren’t you supposed to ask me casually? Like, take notes through observation and ‘check in’ when necessary?” 

Chloe pulled a face, waving her hand, and it was a kind of dismissiveness that Beca found surprising. “That stuff never works,” Chloe said, “And I’m not a creep–” Beca raised her eyebrows at that, but Chloe swatted her arm, “What I mean to say is, yes, you don’t leave your room a lot. So technically–”

“I’m a residential risk,” Beca quipped. Chloe pulled her bottom lip, shrugging. 

“ _But_ I’m not asking because my boss wants me to,” Chloe promised. There was something about how open she was being that made Beca…believe her. 

Which was silly, really. She was being _paid_ to care about Beca. This, accompanied by open doors and candy hand-outs, was her _job_. 

“Then why are you asking?” Beca grinned slightly despite herself. “Because you saw me naked, and now you feel responsible for all of this.” 

She gestured to herself somewhat awkwardly while she said it, but with an eyebrow raised and a slightly uncomfortable tone, it communicated the right level of sarcasm that she needed to make Chloe roll her eyes and laugh. 

“No,” she said, “I mean, that’s not _not_ it. But also because you don’t leave your room, and you’re in college, so I think that you should.” 

Beca blinked, thrown aback. “You’re telling me to go to a party.” 

“Not as your RA, I’m not,” Chloe clarified. “But as the girl who gets to hear your mixes, I am.” 

Looking at her from suspicious eyes, Beca tilted her head. 

“The walls are thin,” Chloe explained, winking. 

“And that is relevant because….”

“Because, I want to get to know you,” Chloe said simply. “Because your stuff is good, and because I may or may not know someone who could play them at the next all campus…soiree.” 

“You don’t have to act like you like me just because I’m your resident,” Beca started, but Chloe turned. She looked genuinely hurt that Beca would suggest anything remotely close to that idea, and before Beca knew it, the distance between them erased again. 

“How many times,” Chloe started, her eyes flitting down for only half of a second. Long enough to make Beca close her mouth and catch her breath, though. “Do I have to tell you it’s not about that?” Then, just like that, she smiled the most innocent smile Beca had seen and hopped back. “So, your plans for Friday night…?” 

“Wallow, mostly,” Beca said. She grimaced, wondering why she hadn’t come up with a better excuse. Something that would keep her away from having to stand in a sweaty room with her _RA_ and this swirling ball of conflicting instincts that Beca seemed to be throwing around quite freely. 

“Perf,” Chloe sang, clapping slightly. She added a jump to it, her bun bouncing up and down, and it was comical if it wasn’t so cute. “I’ll knock around…nine? And this time, you kinda have to answer.” 

“And if I don’t?” Beca asked. She swore Chloe’s eyes sparkled. 

“I have a hall key,” the redhead said, walking away slowly. “So you don’t have an option!” 

She was already a few feet away, restarting her run back to the dorm by the time she said that, and while Beca was inclined to just shake her head and grin - because, okay, RA or not, Chloe _was_ exceptionally good looking and had this ridiculous ability to….well, make Beca’s insides turn into silly putty. Not the most useful ability, admittedly - she forced herself to sigh painfully. 

No one would need to know that she was secretly excited to go to a party with her RA on Friday. 

(But, then again, no one would really be asking in the first place). 


	3. Secret Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: RA Chloe forces her floor to do a secret Santa/snowflake and she ends up getting Beca as the person she has to buy a present for. — sent by akendrickx

She was doing it for their own good, really. Not that that was something her residents really recognized, considering she had to practically knock on every one of their doors _personally_ to make them pick out of a hat, and even then there wasn’t any promises that they’d follow through with gifts.

Sure, exams were in the upcoming week. 

Sure, they had to balance that with getting ready to go home, social engagements, and overall maintaining their personal health and hygiene. 

Sure, that left little to no time to participate in such inane community building activities. 

If anyone knew that, it was Chloe, who was knee-deep in a research paper for psychology and had to crank out her senior thesis - or at least the basis of it - before the beginning of the second semester. 

These were precisely the reasons she felt like it was necessary to have such an activity - it was a relatively mindless game where people had to, at a fundamental level, remember that they were existing among other humans and reward a select group of said humans via a gift that was, if Chloe got what _she_ wanted for Christmas, personal and well thought out. 

There was, as you can tell, intricate thoughts placed on the entire plan of action. She had reasons, and she had ways, and, for God’s sake, she had her _own_ things to do, so _clearly_ this program was done out the innocent goodness of her own holiday heart. This, I point out, is an important thing to remember as you move forward in the story and realize that Chloe picked Beca from the hat. 

It was not on purpose. Everything had a plan, a strategy, and this was not a factor in it all. She swears. 

Regardless of the intent, though, Chloe _did_ draw Beca’s name from the hat, her messy scrawl biting across the paper. And there was a bigger than average part of her that wished she hadn’t catalyzed the activity at all anymore. Because if she thought the normal operation of Secret Santa was going to take away a huge part of her time, this…

Well this was going to take considerably longer. 

She wasn’t sure why this was her first thought, because, _hello_ there was nothing about Beca that warranted any more time than usual. (This was her second, much more censored and controlled thought). 

Maybe it was because she knew that Beca was a resident she was supposed to keep her eyes on, or because Beca still hadn’t gone out with her - something she wished the younger girl would get over with already because it was _not_ as painful as Chloe imagined she thought - and Chloe needed to win her over as a completely detached Resident Advisor and nothing more. 

It had nothing to do with the fact that Chloe was beginning to relish the walks she took to class and the kind of tension that spread between them when Chloe walked out the door at the same time, but different paces, from Beca. It had nothing to do with the kind of twinkle left in Beca’s eyes that, being an RA, should’ve made the redhead a _touch_ nervous. 

No, Chloe said to herself, this was about the holiday cheer, the tradition of gift giving, and the need to build community. Nothing else. 

Which was exactly why she spent the better part of an hour in the bookstore looking for _something_ that said _something_ about the limited amount she knew about Beca. Barden headphones? A backpack with the DJ’s logo on it? 

They were all painfully imperfect, and Chloe, best shopper on this side of Atlanta, was about to rip her hair out by the end of the visit to the store. She’d texted Aubrey twice, but it was challenging to explain to _anyone_ why it was important to her.

Hell, it was challenging to explain to _herself_. 

So when she finally settled on something, it was like having a glass of water after a long day of travel - cool and smooth and perfect, and Chloe couldn’t put the entire project down, practically _itching_ for the exchange on Monday, so confident was she in her decision. 

The entire process led her to this moment, where she was currently knocking more harshly than she intended on Beca’s door, fighting the urge to stomp her feet as if she were having a temper tantrum. 

Because Beca, the receiver of this perfect gift, decided very resolutely _not_ to come to the gift exchange (which had _free pizza)_ nodding to Chloe on her way to the bathroom to imply that she’d be there in five and never even bothering to show her face.

“Beca, I know you’re in there!” Chloe said, wincing as she heard the words and how…decidedly unprofessional they probably were. Nonetheless, she kept knocking, hearing the banging of a spoon against a bowl and only stopping when she heard the scrape of the desk chair against the floor. 

“What the fuck, dude?” Beca asked before the door was even all the way open. Chloe used the opportunity to jump right into the room. 

The room that was dark, despite it being before four pm. It was covered in posters and bulletin boards filled not with pictures from home but a series of concert tickets. On the shelf in the corner was a cactus who was, somehow, dying. 

“You should water that sometime,” Chloe commented, more to herself than to Beca. The brunette reached her, standing a tad too close. 

“It can live on it’s own,” Beca grumbled, “A strong independent plant…that’s what I raise here.”

Chloe chuckled, “You should be proud. It’s not easy to raise a cactus these days.” 

She couldn’t shake the feeling of victory she felt upon seeing Beca have to bite down her smile. She was sure this is what they meant when they talked about the most rewarding aspects of the job. 

She was also sure that there was a small this feeling wasn’t something they warned her about in training. 

“Why’re you here?” Beca asked after rolling her eyes, her tone sharper than it had been. It was almost like she was distracted for a brief moment - like she forgot the charade she was trying to keep up. 

Chloe, by way of answer, held out her arm. There was a small box in her palm. 

“You gonna propose?” Beca asked with her eyebrow raised. 

“Just open it,” Chloe said quickly. She had been waiting after hours and hours of trying, and this was something she was not willing to push back any longer. 

Beca snatched the box from Chloe, holding it to her face and rattling it before running her finger along the tape. She opened it up easily enough, and Chloe thought that if she could photograph that absolute childhood-esque wonder in a grown woman, it would be Beca, despite her overall demeanor.

It was only upon _seeing_ the gift that Beca left her excitement fall. Plucking it out of the case carefully, she observed the pitch pipe gleam in Beca’s hands, and it took all her power not to jump up and down. 

“What is this?” Beca asked cautiously, eying it. 

“Not yours, technically…”

“Gee, thanks,” Beca grumbled, but Chloe’s hands were already on her forearms, tugging excitedly. 

“You have _no_ idea what it is,” Chloe said knowingly, and Beca visibly deflated. 

“A weird hockey puck?”

“A pitch pipe,” Chloe answered quickly. “The captain of the Bellas gets it every year.”

“And you want me to be captain?” 

“I want you to be doing what you love,” Chloe answered. “And I think that acapella could lead you to that.” 

Beca scoffed, rolling her eyes. 

“Also I’m going to need that back by tomorrow. The actual captain is going to lose her mind when I tell her I took it.” 

Beca smiled then, a sweet, shy smile, the pitch pipe drawing circles in her palm, so to break the quiet, Chloe put her hands on Beca’s shoulders. 

“It’s not much, but I want you think about it,” she said, smiling as she moved a touch closer. “Mostly because I do it. And I think either way we’re going to be fast friends.” 


End file.
